Walking the wire
by Red Candies
Summary: Kaz and Inej would never stop fighting. But when she asks him to fight his demons so they can heal together, the Bastard of the Barrel is a little more reluctant to do so. But Kaz Brekker has never been the type to back off from challenges, and he would do anything for his Wraith.


Hi! So, I'm not really sure anyone will read this, but I wanted to share it because Six of Crows means a lot to me and I've been wanting to write about Kaz and Inej since January so... here it is! There are no real trigger warnings, they kinda talk about their traumas but there's nothing too graphic. I hope I wrote the characters right, if I don't, please tell me, I'm too afraid of ruining them.

Also English isn't my mother-tongue so if you see any mistakes, please tell me and don't be afraid of correcting me!

Enjoy!

* * *

_"Do you feel the same when I'm away from you?_  
_Do you know the line that I'd walk for you?_  
_We could turn around, or we could give it up,_  
_But we'll take what comes, take what comes"_

* * *

Kaz always knew when she returned to Ketterdam.

Sure, many people were telling him about it, as soon as they spotted The Wraith emerging from the sea, but somehow, he knew way before they did. It was something in the air, he thought. Every time she came back, he could feel the tension in Ketterdam lessen. Or maybe it was the tension in his own body that finally dropped off. Because no matter what he did, Kaz was always waiting for his Wraith to come back. There were days when he feared he would never see her again – not because something would happen to her, because death wasn't an option, but because maybe she would eventually get tired of him and of Ketterdam. Not that she would blame her.

But eight months after the Ice Court, and three since her last visit, she came back. And Kaz Brekker was _grinning._

He never waited for her on the decks, even if he wanted to. It would ruin his reputation if people knew how much he wanted to see his Wraith. It could put her in danger, too. He'd made the mistake once; he would never do it again. So instead he joined her a few hours later, pretending to walk by the ships, as if seeing her was merely a coincidence. And she knew all of this, of course. She wanted to see him as much as he did, but she'd spent enough years in this city to know not to show any weakness. So, she waited, too, for him to come to her.

He spotted her first, and after a few minutes, their eyes met. He would always treasure this moment, when dark coffee met darker moons. Kaz always took the time to notice all the changes in her: the way her body stood, more and more confident; her wild hair, longer with time, always carefully braided; her clothes, making her look like a pirate. He could have smiled. He wanted too. He stayed silent.

"Hello, Kaz."  
"Hello, Wraith. What business?"  
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Won't you ever give up this nickname? I'm not The Wraith anymore, Kaz. I'm Inej Ghafa."

She had this defiance in her eyes, that spark of life that made him want to drown in it.

"You're everybody's Inej Ghafa, but you're nobody's Wraith but mine."  
"Well, who are you and what have you done to Kaz 'Dirtyhands' Brekker?"

She laughed, and it felt like home.

Inej took the time to give orders to her crew, she mostly instructed them to enjoy Ketterdam without being too nosy or too drunk. Some of them laughs, others whispered in frustration. But they would listen to her. She was their captain and they respected her. She finally gave her full attention to Kaz, and she may have spotted the ghost of a smile on his lips. He wasn't wearing his gloves but it didn't surprise her: they always greeted by holding hands, now. His skin was soft, cold against her palms but it didn't bother her; she had enough warmth in her for the both of them. They stayed in this position for a while before Kaz grabbed her hand and brought her to the Slat.

The first times she'd came back from sea, she'd stayed with Jesper and Wylan, enjoying the comfy beds and incredible breakfasts made by the servants. At some point Kaz had started to show up for dinner (how they convinced him to come was still a mystery to her) and she'd always escorted him back to the Slat. One day, as a pretty bad storm was coming, she'd stayed, slept in a spare mattress he had in his room (she definitely didn't think about why he had one ready for her) and it became so regular that she ended up coming straight to the Slat, only going to the Van Eck mansion for dinner. Jesper and Wylan didn't mind as long as she knew she always had a room at the mansion, and of course she did, and she missed the bed, but she would never give up what she did with Kaz.

Actually, they didn't _do_ much. They mostly talked about Inej's adventures at sea, the girls she saved, her parents. Kaz caught her up on Ketterdam's business, the jobs he did, the new Dregs members. Sometimes she would just stay by the window, feeding the crows while he was doing some paperwork, just like old times. She'd only stay in the city for a few days so they didn't really have time to do anything else, but it was their routine and they cherished it.

Some days they even tried to talk, really talk, about their past, their fears (well, _she_ talked about it). They tried to touch, held each other while one of them had a bad day. Inej was healing. She knew that. The first time she'd slept in Kaz's room, she had terrible nightmares and almost stabbed him when he tried to wake her up. But he never flinched away from her, never pitied her either. He did what Kaz did best: changed the subject, talked about his last mission so her mind would stop thinking about bodies pressed against hers. In a way, he helped her, a lot. She had helped herself first, fighting against her demons, but it was still good to know she could trust him with it too. That she could sleep in a room with a man who wouldn't use her. But she didn't know if _he_ was healing. He never wore his gloves when he was with her, sure, but he still did when they went outside, and she knew he never took them off when she was away. He still looked sleep deprived, dark shadows under his eyes, and if Kaz Brekker didn't have nightmares, she could always hear him toss and turn every night.

So, when they arrived at the Slat that day, she decided she wouldn't leave until they talked about it. About him, for once. _I will have you without armor_. She meant it when she said it, and it wasn't only about his gloves. She was sick and tired of him pretending to be okay when he was not, and if their relationship needed to go somewhere, Kaz had to trust her, because she fully intended to move on, with or without him. She had an idea that would definitely cause her death, but what was life without a bit of a risk?

"Are you feeling up to join our mattresses together tonight?" Her cheeks went red, of course, but her voice was firm, determined. Kaz opened his eyes wide, taken aback, and she would have laughed if only he wasn't so serious. "_What?_" he said, dangerous. She sighed. It could have been so easy.

"Well… we've been pretty clear with each other, with what we wanted, and I thought… maybe, maybe it's time to try the next step?" She had a shy smile on her lips, but there was no real hesitation in her tone. She was ready. He pretended not to understand.  
"I thought we were getting there," he said, carefully avoiding to look at his bare hands.

"So why it is – ", she moved closer to him so she could grab his hand, "when I catch your off guards – ", she started pulling up his sleeves, feeling the tension radiating from his body, "you still flinch?"

Because that's what he did, and it was so subtle she wouldn't even have seen it if she didn't pay attention. But she's been watching Kaz Brekker for years, and she knew exactly how this body would react to her touch. For the past few months, they've been very careful with the way they touched each other – never higher than the hands, always asking permission, never crossing lines they weren't ready to cross yet. But they both knew they wanted more, she_ ached _for more, and deserved more, too. Her body was a monument and it deserved to be explored.

But Kaz had never shown any intention to go further. At one point she even started wondering if he had any desire in him, if he just didn't have the balls to tell her off. But when they talked about it, he told her _how much_ he wanted her, but he was also terrified of hurting her and his mind and his body were two very different things, that he couldn't help the way he reacted the same way her muscles contracted every time Jesper hugged her for too long. But at least she wanted to try, and she was done waiting for him to make the first move.

But then, she saw it.

The way he clenched his fists, his breath coming in sharp, little blows, as if trying not to drown. He shut his eyes but didn't move away from her. She was torturing him and he let her do it to prove a point. She let go of his hand.

"Kaz I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – please try to breathe?"  
"Not helpful, Wraith." His voice was low, barely a whisper, and she only heard it because the Slat was so silent at night. She watched him, carefully, noticed how hard he was trying to fight the war that took place in his head and then she saw him win, slowly, his eyes now open, his breath more even.

"I'm really sorry, Kaz. I'm just…"  
"Frustrated?" The laugh that came was bitter, humourless. "You're not the only one, you know. Don't you think I'd like to touch you, everywhere, every time, to be able to take you on this bed, to do things to you that'd make you forget your own name?"  
She flushed, but he didn't look at her. There was a darkness in his eyes that would scare the night itself.  
"But I can't, Inej. And maybe you're thinking I'm not trying enough, not as much as you, and you're right. You've always been stronger than me on this."

She groaned, now angry. Kaz Brekker only acknowledged being weak when it suited him. She knew she had no right to push him on this, because if he didn't want to deal with his mind, she couldn't force him, but sometimes she just wondered what was the point of her coming back to Ketterdam again and again if nothing more was waiting for her in this city.

"Don't you want to heal, Kaz?" Her words were sharp, little knives trying to get through him. "Because I want to. And I need to know if I can do it with you. And I know it's not easy, I know we won't get there in a day, maybe it'll take years but… taking off your gloves and pretending everything's better isn't doing it. You need to talk to me so I can understand you, so we can deal with whatever's plaguing your mind together. I'm tired of staying with a _stone_."

He stood up and she was pretty sure that if a stare could kill, she would have been dead already. His leg was hurting him, she had learned to notice the subtle way he handled himself when the pain was too much, one side pressed against the other. He didn't sit back though, he just paced around the room, ignoring his cane because he so needed to prove his strength. She wanted to murder him.

"If you're that tired of me, _Inej_, then you should go." She'd never heard him use such a cold tone with her. She had come to forget who he was in the Barrel, but right now he was reminding her of how dangerous he could be. "I don't need salvation; I don't need help. I'm fine the way I am, and if you can't deal with it, then please go back to Wylan and Jesper, go back to your ship. You have little girls to help, I'm beyond saving so stop wasting your time trying to see something in me that _isn't_ there."

But he didn't mean any of it, not really. There was some part of him that wanted her to stay, to help him. He'd dream about it, of her fixing him, healing every broken thing in his body and in his mind. Because he was _not_ fine, Kaz Brekker has never been fine, and he was tired of it. He had money and power, but he came to realize that those two things he wanted most didn't even start keeping his demons at bay. The money was just comfort, and being the boss of the Barrel only prevented him from being murdered in his sleep. Even his pursuit of vengeance didn't sound so appealing now. And it _hurt_.

"I don't understand why you still put up your act with me," Inej said, defeated. "You know you can trust me; I would never tell anyone anything about you," he thought of the time he fainted right in front of her and she never said a word about it. "I wish you could show me the real you. Because Dirtyhands is not who you are. Kaz Brekker isn't either. I'm not here to save you, you're the only one who can, but I can help you. We can help each other. We never stop fighting, isn't it what you said to me? If we can fight the world, why can't we fight our demons together?"

_I can help you._

He'll never tire of hearing those words from her. The words that started everything. He stopped pacing. He looked at her, this little Suli girl who wanted to help _him_, the bastard of the Barrel, a monster who'd kill anyone just for a few _kruge_. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to believe her, too. He sat right next to her, took his head in his cold hands. Sometimes, even his own skin revulsed him. But not today. He'd felt good, today. He wasn't used to having good days – days where he just had paperwork to do, where there wasn't anybody to yell at, where he could go on the streets of Ketterdam to buy some waffles and not fear for his life. Survival had become less exhausting and he'd began to imagine what _living_ felt like. And he wanted to live with Inej next to him. Maybe she was right – maybe they could fight together, one last time.

"What if you can't help me, Wraith? What if I'm never able to touch you more than a few seconds, what if I can't shake off Dirtyhands even with you?" _Even if I trust you_, he wanted to say. But he just kept staring at her.

She took his hands, carefully, softly, in a way that didn't send his mind into panic. Her skin always felt weird against his, because he's been so used to not feel any, but it was so different from Jodie's rotted flesh that it didn't trigger his brain. There was no water. His pulse was racing anyway.

"Then we'll find a way to reach without making contact, we'll find a way to trust each other without compromising ourselves," she said, cautiously. "But we have to try, okay?" She took his hand and pressed a kiss against his fingers. The water was cold against his skin. He felt the warmth of her lips. How could he be drowning and burning at the same time?

"I want to tell you," he finally said, a hitch in his breath. "But I'm not telling you so you can pity me. I've done terrible things and what happened to me is not an excuse, and you can send a hundred prayers to your Saints, it won't prevent me from going to hell."

Kaz Brekker, always the dramatic one. She laughed but she nodded anyway. She always included him in her prayers, but she wouldn't tell him that. She was not the one to decide who goes to hell and who doesn't, and she was pretty sure she was going to hell with him. They were both beyond redemption. But they deserved a life anyway.

He had to remove his hands from hers to share his story. Because the memories were too painful, too vivid, and he couldn't stand the touch while remembering his childhood. He told her everything; she had a rough idea of what happened with Pekka but it still made her burn with rage. He revealed his real name, Kaz Rietveld, making sense of his tattoo on his bicep. And then came the story of the Queen Lady's Plague, and she winced trying to picture a little Kaz swimming in deep waters using his brother's body. He told her then how skin contact made him think of rotted flesh, how he would drown every time somebody tried to touch him.

She didn't say anything for a long time, even after he was done. Because what could she say? That she was sorry? That her Saints only wanted to test him? She felt sick, helpless. She reached out for him and he let her. He pressed his shaking fingers against her pulse. _Alive. Alive. Alive_.

"Did it help?" she said finally, her fingers drawing circles on the back of his hand. "Did it help telling me at all?"

He wasn't looking at her, but he nodded, slowly. His breath was still a bit harsh.

"I've never told anyone before you."  
There was a terror in his voice that broke her heart.  
"I won't tell anyone, you know that. But… thank you for… trusting me." He didn't contradict her.

After a long moment of silence, Kaz stood up again and started moving her mattress against his. She joined him, hesitant.

"Kaz we don't – we don't have to, I'm sorry for what I said earlier, if you're not ready… we can wait. I can wait."  
"It's okay," he said, "I want to." His voice was hard but there was no lie in his words. _He really does trust me_, she thought. It only made her smile.

And maybe that night he would never close his eyes by fear of killing her in his sleep if they accidentally touched; maybe it took him another week to voice it out loud; and maybe it took them months and months to be able to touch a little more without any of them backing off, but they had hope, and they had each other, and they would _never stop fighting_.


End file.
